


Like a Thief in the Night

by whimsicalmuse



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-29
Updated: 2004-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:38:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalmuse/pseuds/whimsicalmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vignette in the same verse as <i>Master Boyd's Opus</i></p><p>Master Boyd pays Dominic a visit in the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Thief in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the [Monaboyd.net Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Monaboyd.net), which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Monaboyd_Archive/profile).

He shouldn’t be doing this, such a rash _clandestine_ action, yet he could not control his actions with the lad any more than he could capture sunshine between his hands. From the moment the young man had hovered in the door to his parlor, shy and yet openly taken with the sounds of William’s music, a small chink had been made in his countenance, and even worse, Dominic bred intrigue.

Such a feeling William had scarcely felt in years.

Yet here he was, slipping like a wraith down the lonely halls to the servants’ quarters, unnoticed, as his blindness meant he bore no need for candlelight, and quiet, as the coldness of the Manor was nothing to the coldness in his veins, thus he needed not more than a simple robe.

He was not sure he’d even remembered what warmth felt like.

And then Dominic had woken him. He’d pulled him from the turbulent storm within his mind with soft words, and a _warm hand,_ and something had been lit inside William.

He was driven to know more of this youth and his heat, driven by a compulsive need to simply be with him; to watch him, in his own fashion.

The door was thankfully quiet as he opened it, and he was glad Dominic’s station within the staff afforded him private quarters, or William’s visitation would prove to be most awkward. In he crept, cloaked in chill and shadow, his gait less sure, as Dominic’s room was not a place he’d ever been to.

His heart raced too, his mind high off the scent of a thrill, and his stomach tied up in knots. What would he do if the lad woke up? How might he recover his dignity? Rank and station would dictate Dominic would not _say_ anything, but William was no fool. He’d feel the curiosity and perhaps violation in Dominic’s eyes, as sure as he’d feel a slap across his cheek, and he wasn’t entirely sure what’d he do then, if he lost the company he was only just beginning to appreciate.

Luck would prevail, for on this occasion Dominic’s breathing proved he was fast asleep, taking deep slow breaths, and sometimes moving his eyes, the soft flap of skin loud in the small room. William dared a step forward, his hands out to feel for any tables or chairs that might prove a barrier, but there were none. As if knowing the Master might one day visit, the room had been situated with all furniture along the walls, it would seem.

With a soft breath and a burning determination, once he realized the way was clear, William continued forward, fingertips trembling. When he reached the bed, he sank to his knees, his hands grazing the duvet until they settled lightly on soft skin—too soft to belong to a man whose days were spent toiling over housework. William touched the inside of Dominic’s wrist, pausing to feel the firm flush beneath his veins, and then traced up, to follow the curve of his long thumb and the filed edge of his nail. Shaking fully now, he paused and when he felt no response from Dominic, dared to gently clasp his thin hand, heat radiating from the center of his palm and up his arm, blooming somewhere in the vicinity of William’s chest.

He moved onto the next hand, daring to hover over Dominic until his hand met Dominic’s, fingertip to fingertip. Dominic stirred slightly then, shifting his hips, and a low strangled noise rumbled low in his throat, as William froze, his face pale as he waited for the lad to awake.

 _Probably dreaming,_ William reasoned, as his fingers kept delicately kneading, and as if on cue, Dominic parted his lips, a soft whisper filling the room.

One word, said he, one name that turned the room upside down, and shocked the Master so soundly he nearly fell atop the young man.

 _“William,”_ said Dominic in a lover’s tone, low and burning, and unmistakable. His leg folded right at the knee, and sensing William’s heat in his sleep, Dominic turned his hips up, like a flower to the sun, his ache craving more tension and contact.

William felt his firmness brush briefly against his belly, hot and solid, and a touch damp, and he had to pull away then, his hands flying to his mouth, as his nostrils filled with the scent of Dominic’s arousal, as his newfound desire bloomed, and threatened to spill over.

The lad wanted him, had him in his sleep, and dared to call him by his name. Thoughts of leaving him rang, but he shoved them back, curiosity and hunger addling his mind. Just one more touch, a simple caress, reasoned he, as he stepped forward again, his fingers already greedy for another touch, another taste of him. They rested lightly against his lips, drinking in the smooth, supple feel and his soft breath, and William all but gasped at the reeling electric feeling that burned clear down to his core.

Now. He’d have to leave this instant, before he’d acted out of character, out of the borders of decency, and then had to remain to face his actions.

In pulling his hand away, he brushed again, nails scraping _there,_ and he pulled back as if he’d been burned, and hastily retreated to the darkness of the hall, up the steps to his room, slamming the door, to afford himself a bit of privacy. Clothes were torn off, his flesh fevered and sweaty as his mind replayed the feel of Dominic beneath his fingertips, still and warm, his name on his lips.

How he’d thought of them lately, in indecent places and positions, Dominic tense and coiled, and loving him. He’d imagined the young man’s weight atop him, as William slid into him, the want so fierce he could feel the tight heat, even as his own hands wrapped around his arousal, intent on bringing his release.

With a soft sigh he sunk into his bed, stuttering a gasp and choking back Dominic’s name, as his mind relived the feel of his lips, soft as a rose petal, and so damned hot. Hotter than the sunshine on his skin on the first day of summer. He spread his legs, his left hand sinking lower to cup himself, even as his right hand moved, deft fingers easily taking the task as it was nothing to the strain of creating music day in and day out.

The beginning of soft notes began to fill his mind, as his hands moved and his thoughts lingered on Dominic, and a bright, haunting melody filled his mind, bittersweet and tragic, and as soon as William had realized Dominic’s song, he’d known with a miserable clarity that it was for naught; William would never have the chance to share it with Dominic.

His hands eased him to completion, even as he chest constricted with the pain of his resolute decision; he’d wash this emotion from his system, rid his veins of this fire, and turn away. Dominic was most forbidden, and though he wanted him still, after the warm rain of release washed over his body, he’d turn away and let him go. Only in the shadow of night, and the music that flowed from William’s fingertips would Dominic be his.


End file.
